Man, I had to deal with full-on screaming tonight. M. has cried hysterically, shrieked, yelled exceptionally loud, and I probably even characterized some of her outbursts as screaming in the past. But tonight, there’s no doubt it was a scream. She literally stopped crying so she could scream for five minutes, then started crying again. Some non-parents out there are probably saying, “What’s the big deal? Babies scream.” Yes, but my daughter has proven to be pretty tough so far. She routinely cracks S. or I in the skull with her head, and while we’re fighting back tears and waiting for the wailing to begin, she just looks at us and blinks her eyes. It must be some kind of pain she’s in now; she was so distraught that I was reduced to tears at one point. That good old helpless feeling from the early days of her life when we were tired and had no idea what to do, so we just cried with her.

In better baby news, she has a new thing I call the Yearbook Look. When you’re doing something that is particularly interesting to her, she cocks her head to the side and stares at you with a grin on her face. It’s like she’s looking around some imaginary pillar to see what’s going on. She always does it when you’re not looking, so it’s hysterical to move your focus back to her and see her clearly trying to get your attention. When your eyes meet hers, she laughs. Good stuff.

Even better was our encounter at lunch Sunday. A couple with a ten month old boy was seated next to us, the boy in a high chair with his back to me. M. was asleep and hidden in her car seat, so the boy had to entertain himself by looking at us. At one point, he was completely leaned back in his seat, and he was giving me the Yearbook Look. He just stared and stared, totally expressionless. Hilarious. When M. woke up and we took her out of her seat, we tried to get them to interact. However, they both just stared at the doodlebug that hangs from the handle of her seat rather than at each other. No, I had no idea what a doodlebug was seven months ago, but I now use the term in casual conversation.

M.’s new game is grabbing my hair. I knew the time would come when my hair became a target for little baby hands. With that in mind, I’ve been keeping it shorter than I had done over the past two years or so. Now, when I try to blow raspberries on her stomach, legs, or feet, she grabs at my hair and laughs. Eventually, I just lean in and let her touch my hair to amuse herself. Last night, she grabbed a handful and moved her face to it so she could stuff it into her mouth. That lasted about two seconds when she spit it out and got a look on her face like we’d given her something foul to eat. Maybe that’s where the whole hair in the food complex comes from?

She’s in bed, hopefully for a quiet night with mommy at work. Last night was another awake at least once an hour night. Daddy could use some sleep. I’m working on my Finn Brothers-related posts, and hope to get at least one up tomorrow. We’re less than a week away from the concert.